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k2daisy

December 2025

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1. Tea update: so far, I hate it.

Have been drinking Twinings English Breakfast while waiting for my Adagio advent box to arrive, and my verdict is it makes my mouth taste like I ate dried grass. But it is better for my stomach already, so currently I have a cup of tea and then a cup of coffee.

The Adagio arrived last night so this morning I tried their English Breakfast version. Verdict: a richer flavor of dried grass.

I got the Advent box so I could try a wide variety of tea types and flavors without committing to a full package of any. I will keep trying!

2. PT update: my next appointment isn't until January 7, so I have to get serious about doing my ankle exercises more consistently. It's tricky because some require me sitting with my legs extended (like on my couch), some require standing in bare feet, and some require standing in sneakers. I think I have figured out the best solution: to do them in the morning, but break them up and align them with my regular morning routine. The band ones get done in the early morning as I sit on the couch and play around on the phone with my tea/coffee. The barefoot stretches get done as I make breakfast and do dishes in the kitchen. The heel raises and balance ones get done after I get dressed and put on my shoes for the day. There is one more that is a barefoot standing one with a band, to work on strengthening my arches. Those get done here in the office, while I catch up on DW and do my own post.

My morning routine is very consistent and so far it has been v easy to fold these in, much like I did the bed-making and tidying up. I am encouraged this will work. An added bonus: my ankles and legs get nicely stretched, which helps a lot in moving around the rest of the day. Doing it at night when they are already swollen and tired has felt useless.

3. I am watching Pluribus. Read more... )

4. Several of my husband's gifts were gadgets for the car. I do drive a LOT, so what he got will actually help. There's a nice garbage bag/backpack type thing to use instead of throwing it all in the passenger foot well. A tray that sits in the passenger seat that makes it more level and has a couple of places to put small items so they don't slide around. Lastly, an automatic tire inflator, which I need since my tires appear to be very sensitive to weather changes and are low again. 

5. I hated Florida, and always will, but I miss my mother's house and my father's neighborhood. I miss how the neighbors were out and active, stopping by the dog run gate in the morning to say hello to Molly, joining us on our daily walks, just hanging out in the street and talking. I get why my dad spent so much time in the garage, overseeing all the goings-on but also being a leader of it. None of my neighbors are like that here. They give friendly waves and that's about it. Their neighborhood felt like a community, like the one we lived in growing up. 

I also really miss my mom's house. It had so much light and openness, and breezes across the house all the time. I went into some of the neighbors' houses, and theirs didn't have that. They had heavy furniture, or closed blinds, or just the set up was tighter and darker; Theirs felt like a house that could be in Mt. Prospect or Kenosha but just happened to be in Florida. My mom deliberately decorated and designed the house to maximize that warm resort feel. There was such peace and calm there. I don't want to recreate that here -- my small house is better suited to be full of plants and pottery and snuggly dogs -- but I definitely miss what she built there for them and for their guests. 

I miss it for them, and honestly I miss it for me. I spent almost five months down there -- three were just me and Molly -- and it was therapeutic as much as it was traumatic. Even when my sister was torturing me via text during that time, and oh God that part was very traumatic, I could still open the sliders to the lanai and listen to the breeze flapping the flag on the dock. 

Or maybe that's just winter boredom talking. 
k2daisy: (Default)
I am an extra early riser, but 2:30am is way too early even for me.

At first my brain was buzzing with ideas about re-arranging my big booth, which is my main project this week. How am I going to take everything off the shelves and store it safely within the booth so I can then move the shelves to new locations? How many boxes should I bring in? Oooh, take the long folding table too. Etc.

Then my eyes started leaking, and a full-on cry burst out of me. (Note: get a new box of tissues by the side of the bed.) Eventually I acknowledged I wasn't going back to sleep so I moved to the living room so my husband and dogs could get their sleep.

The memorial is on Saturday, the water burial is Sunday. We fly out on Friday. All of my nervous energy around the booth redesign is just a distraction technique from the wall of pain I am about to run into. I'm going to bury my parents in less than a week and it's already wrecking me.

+++

I was contacted by two very different people last night about the memorial. That's probably what brought this so close to the surface.

The first was my Dad's best friend. He's been texting me from time to time, to check in on me or offer a kind word about the house, or something he and Dad would talk about, etc. He's so kind, but every time his name pops up on my phone, I start crying. Because my Dad would be doing the same for John's oldest son, if John had passed away first. John and Dad were friends for 50 years because they were so alike; John's thoughtfulness is so like my Dad's. Dad would have sent a congrats text when the house sold, asked for an update on the memorial, told a story about them texting while watching women's basketball at the same time, told his son how proud his dad was of him. John is caring for his ailing wife Betty (she has Alzheimer's) like Dad cared for Mom during her cancer treatments.

John's message last night: Kristen, Betty and I will be attending this Saturday. We will only be staying a short time as we are going to do a round trip. It's important to me to see you, Kate and Alison. See you Saturday.

It made me cry so, so hard. They live in New Jersey, it's not a short drive. But I am so grateful he is coming. I haven't even seen them in at least forty years. But the 4 of them saw each other every year during that time. My dad had a pile of t-shirts, 15-20 at least, of Barnagut Lighthouse, where the 4 of them vacationed together on the Jersey shore for years and years. My parents knew how to be good friends to their friends, a trait I wish I emulated more.

The other message was from a random relative of my husband's. Not sure even he knows who he is. A cousin or something, I assumed from Pennsylvania where his dad is from. We're facebook friends but I don't know him at all. Anyway, he had commented on one of my posts saying he wanted to see me when we were in Connecticut, but wasn't sure if he should come to the memorial. He jumbled up my husband's and father's names, he didn't know why we were havng it in Cheshire, and I didn't respond because it felt rude and intrusive of him. Then he posted again last night to say I hadn't replied, and maybe we could meet while we were in town. He emailed me too, same thing.

I replied back in email this morning, and said this was an extremely emotional visit and I was not up to seeing any new visitors, but maybe next trip. But you know what? Fuck you, buddy. No, I do not want to meet you, this is not a casual fucking trip. You are a facebook friend, you have had access to all of my honest and painful posts about losing my parents. Read the fucking room.

Anyway. That's been my way-too-early morning.
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